Ticket to ride

Ah. My family. They truly adore me. For, you see, I am the wife, the mother, the bathroom cleaner, the laundry washer and folder, the grocery shopper. I am also the one that makes them dance for their ticket to ride.



If your stupid . . . er . . uh . . . I mean forgetful enough to get out of the car with me still in the drivers seat then I'm going to lock you out. The only way to gain entry is to dance. Like you mean it!





I spare no one. Ask the small group of 7th and 8th graders I drove on a field trip recently. It doesn't get any better than 7th and 8th graders. They were mortified!

-dana